


A Side Effect Of Living

by alittlebitbroken



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 03:33:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8234644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlebitbroken/pseuds/alittlebitbroken
Summary: Not all wars are meant to be won.





	1. Do Not Call Me: I

Depression is apathy. Not moving, not smiling, thinking. Do not call me apathetic. 

Depression is silence. What comes out of your mouth is useless, and most likely untrue. I've said tired a thousand times. Do not call me shy. 

Depression is forgetting. Every once in a while, something will make you laugh, or smile. You will have a moment when you think, "I am happy." Do not call me bipolar. 

Depression is isolation. No, I'm not mad. I don't hate you, I don't hate anyone, minus myself. I do not want to waste your time. Do not call me stuck up. 

You call me apathetic. You call me shy. You call me bipolar and stuck up, among others. I have wars in my head, and not all wars are meant to be won.


	2. Trust Me: II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can't run away from what's inside yourself.

Your family is around. Kids playing with balloons, adults clinking glasses of alcohol. You're happy, you love your family. Suddenly, you can't breathe. Why can't you breathe? Anxiety says: trust me. 

It's an incredibly happy day. Your sister is in a white dress and you're in blue, along with three other friends. The groom is in a suit, he already cried once, which of course he'll deny. You don't blame him, she looks beautiful. It's your turn to speak, your sisters best friend hands you the microphone. Suddenly, you can't breathe. Why can't you breathe? Anxiety says: trust me. 

You worked on this for a few weeks, and you're pretty proud. An hour of last-minute fixing on your presentation last night was worth it. You have note cards, you have ways to stay calm, you're confident. You go to the front of the class, smiling shyly. You open your mouth to speak. Suddenly, you can't breathe. Why can't you breathe? Anxiety says: trust me. 

Anxiety says, trust me. Trust me, they're not listening anyways. Trust me, you'll embarrass yourself. Trust me, they'll say things behind your back. Do you look okay? Will your clothes distract boys? Will they judge your hair? What if you trip? What if you say the wrong thing? Anxiety says: you can't run away from me.


End file.
